


Dutiful

by rosymamacita



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: 6 year separation, Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Regency, F/M, bellarke reunion, persuasion au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-05
Updated: 2018-03-11
Packaged: 2019-03-27 06:17:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13874916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosymamacita/pseuds/rosymamacita
Summary: Clarke Griffin has always been a dutiful child, and when she is called home to care for her injured sister Raven, she must leave behind her dashing naval lieutenant fiancee Bellamy Blake.He has been told by other sources that he is below Clarke and she could never take his proposal seriously. When he confronts her, she is unable to deny it. They part, not on pleasant terms. And Clarke is heartbroken.Six years later, Bellamy is now a captain, has found his fortune, and Clarke has lost her bloom.They meet again, and come to rediscover each other anew.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Anonymous said:  
> Someday (when you have the time, of course), you should write a persuasion/bellarke fic!!! PS-- love you and your writing
> 
> uhm okay anon. challenge accepted. i know it took a while.

Clarke Griffin was a dutiful daughter. Never had it been said that she wasn’t. 

Six years ago, when she was called home to Arkadian Park from her season in Polis in order to care for her injured sister Raven, while her parents, Lady Abby and Lord Griffin attended to their Arkshire holdings, Clarke returned. Clarke returned home, if not eagerly, then dutifully. For she left behind a suitor whom she was much taken with, a man of such bravery and beauty that any who had seen him in his dashing navy uniform, might declare him the most perfect man on earth. Clarke had not believed that such a man might love her and want her for his wife, but for the way she felt in his arms, and the words he whispered into her ear about his devotion, and how he had bent his knee to beg her hand in marriage, saying he would love her until the end of time.

She had agreed to be his wife, and that very night the letter came requiring her to return to Arkadian Park. Her cousin, Roan of Azgeda had counseled her that it would be best if she returned home to do her duty, as Bellamy Blake, no matter how dashing he was, had few prospects other than his lieutenancy, and little wealth to support her in the way to which she was accustomed. It would be best, he advised, to delay their engagement, allowing her to do her duty, while Bellamy would be free to find his fortune in the navy. Roan was sure that Bellamy would understand the sense, and if he loved her the way that Clarke said, then he would wait for a better situation for them all. 

This advice set up such a divide within poor Clarke, longing for Bellamy and believing in her heart that his love would be satisfactory in providing her the happiest future, but knowing full well that she was beholden to her parents and to her sister whose injury had destroyed her hopes when her own suitor abandoned her because of it. To then enjoy her own nuptial bliss with her dashing lieutenant while Raven had nothing but disappointment and pain, was entirely too much for Clarke to bear. Torn as she was, Clarke knew that if she were to sort out at all, the best way to do so would be with Bellamy and, together, they would be able to plan the solution that best fit all parties involved and their duties to family, land, and themselves.

Alas, when she arrived at Roan’s town home, where they had determined to meet, Bellamy was cold and turned away.

“Bellamy,” Clarke began, trying to restrain her rapidly beating heart. “I have been called home by my parents. They require my presence at Arkadian Park.”

“Lieutenant Blake, if you please, Miss Griffin. I do not believe we are of an association that would allow such intimacy.”

“Bellamy…” she started, cut to the quick by his cruel words. “What has happened?”

“Nothing at all Miss Griffin, nothing but what has always been the case. I am from an unknown foreign family of no social standing and little fortune and, as always, completely unsuited for the likes of you.”

Something within Clarke wanted to run to him, to throw her arms around his broad shoulders and tell him that was not so. It never was. He was more than worthy and his wealth or social standing was not and never had been a concern of hers, but the way he looked at her, stiff and angry, with eyes full of disdain, kept her in her place. It was inappropriate, and where she might have gone to him anyway if he had given her the slightest warmth, the smallest smile, he did not. 

Her fingers clenched around the arm of the settee. “I do not feel that way in the slightest,” she said quietly, although inside she was screaming. How could he think that of her? She had thought he had known her better than that. 

“Your aunt, Lady Azgeda has already told me you are returning to your proper place at Arkadian Park. It has been made clear to me in no uncertain terms that you could not take as a serious suitor a man of such stature as my own. Thus I can only conclude that you never have.”

“My aunt?” She was puzzled. “I was not aware that my aunt knew of my connection with you, B— Lieutenant Blake. I have not spoken to her for months. She has been out of town.”

“Curious. She seemed to know all about me. My prospects. My background. My wealth, or lack thereof, and my sister.” He stood, stiff, his hands clenched behind his back and his jaw tight and proud.

“I did not tell her.” It was something he had only told her in greatest secrecy. His sister, who was born out of wedlock to a mother already shamed by a marriage to a foreign sailor and shunned from her family, to be tossed aside, once again, by the man she had hoped to marry, leaving her with child. It was the greatest scandal. He supported his sister in her boarding school, but he was required to hide her presence lest it damage his own reputation and his one chance to find success within the navy.

“How curious then, that she should puzzle out such a tightly held secret, along with your intention to discard me.”

Clarke could barely breathe. She couldn’t move. His eyes pierced her soul.

“I am just surprised to see you in person. I thought that the Lady’s call would be enough to dispose of the likes of me.”

“Bellamy,” she cried in horror. “I didn’t—I wouldn’t—“

“Is it true?” He asked, his tone icy. “Are you leaving?”

“I was called home.” It was the truth, she could not do other than tell the truth, but the feelings that roiled within her breast were too uncertain, too dangerous, and his eyes were so cold.

“And you’re going.” Bellamy spoke it as a statement, as an accusation.

“I—“ she started and could not finish. How could she when his disdain was so evident. The words, when they came, were barely audible. “Raven needs me.”

“And when they call, you must come.”

She lowered her eyes. She couldn’t let him see the tears. “It is my duty.”

“I see. That is all I need to know. Good day, Miss Griffin.” With that, he strode from the room, from Roan’s town home, and out of Clarke’s life.

Clarke did her duty and returned home, her hopes dashed and her heart broken. In their parents’ absence, she cared for her sister, discovering that the carriage crash had been caused by their youngest sibling, John, in his recklessness and temper. While Raven dealt with her pain, she also blamed her brother for the loss of all she had hoped for. And John himself, out of guilt and grief, began to associate with a wild crowd.

Clarke was left to do what she could to hold the family together until Lord and Lady Griffin returned. Alas, this was never to happen, as Lord Griffin was killed in an accident in their factory in Arkshire, and Lady Griffin returned home alone, to take up the running of their lands. 

As time passed, Clarke found an equilibrium in Arkadian Park. Lady Griffin set to the task of running her estate and holdings with the good help of Raven. No matter how Clarke encouraged her to seek out the love that she knew her sister wanted, Raven maintained that she was needed to help their Lady mother run things and that without Raven’s intellect and engineeering knowledge, Abby would be bereft. Clarke couldn’t even dispute her, because it was true that Abby did lean on Raven more than she had before, especially with the new technologies that the factories required. Raven had always been their father’s child in regards to technology, and Clarke had been his child in regards to knowing her duty.

Clarke would hear news of Lieutenant Bellamy Blake occasionally, including his rise through the ranks and success in his career. He was rewarded with the rank of captain and was the toast of society. She couldn’t say she didn’t expect it. She had always known he was the best of men. She was proud of him and happy for him if not, on occasion, sad for herself, although she would never admit it aloud. 

Clarke stayed behind and maintained Arkadian Park. She never went to another season in Polis, she was needed in Arkadian Park. She never found another man she liked as much as Bellamy Blake, now Captain, so she preferred to stay to do her duty at home. Her mother and sister depended upon her more than ever. John’s wild ways took a surprising turn when he fell in love with a young woman who, herself, had a questionable reputation, but to the Griffin’s great pleasure, the two wild children became satisfied with their lot and and immediately settled down to wedded bliss in Murphy Hall, beginning a family. Clarke never expected a life of domesticity for her brother but she was happy for him, for his happiness, or for his changed character. And she loved her nephews. 

Her nephews loved her in return and she took every chance she could to travel the hour long trip to visit them. Another season in Polis had come and Clarke, despite her mother’s and sister’s and cousin’s assertion that she should come to Polis, was quite sure the bloom was off her attractions. Her time had passed and she was satisfied to stay, with her nephews, and enjoy the quiet life with the Murphys. 

Only this season, Murphy Hall was not quiet. Emori’s cousins, Echo and Niylah were also visiting, and Clarke could tell that Emori’s wild ways perhaps ran in the family. So Clarke stayed, and she watched her nephews, and she played the pianoforte while the girls danced and listened and laughed, and Clarke wondered why, sometimes, she had always been the dutiful one who cared for everyone, rather than the girl who enjoyed life. Echo and Niylah were so lovely, and Clarke herself felt a longing to a more carefree time, a more carefree her.

She was perhaps falling into memories and nostalgia and missed the conversation about who was to join them after dinner one night, and it wasn’t until she heard the announcement of the arrival of Captains Green and Blake that she shot to her feet in astonishment. 

Into the parlor walked Captain Bellamy Blake, tall and strong in his red coat, his black hair curling about his golden brow, and Clarke Griffin couldn’t have spoken or moved or breathed if she had wanted to. 

His deep brown eyes caught hers as he was introduced. 

“We’ve met,” he said, his rich voice sending shivers up her spine. And then his gaze moved past hers, as if she wasn’t even there, as if she was of no importance, and he was introduced to the children. He was, of course, perfectly charming. The night continued on. He did not speak to her again, but he danced with each of the other young ladies present. Clarke was left shaken, and quiet, to sit back down at the pianoforte, to play while the rest of the party enjoyed their pleasant company.

Clarke Griffin always did her duty.


	2. Lively

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What a lively company at Murphy hall. Of course everyone would look to the dashing Captain Blake as a match for the lively cousin Echo. Of course Clarke would have to bear it all, the courtship, the social gatherings, the long walks. 
> 
> And of course to Bellamy Blake, Clarke Griffin was nothing, nobody, merely the meek sister of his host, a quiet, dependable fourth at cards. The woman who plays the pianoforte while the lively sort danced.

Murphy Hall was lively. Every day and night, it was filled with laughter and youth and jubilation, for all, but Clarke. The addition of Emori’s cousins created such an air of celebration, as Emori and Niylah and Echo filled the warm house with ribbons and songs and chatter. It was a happy place to be and Clarke witnessed it all. John himself was charmed and sat with her one morning while she played with her nephews.

“The ladies are remarkably lively, are they not? They bring such an air of possibility. I confess, Emori has longed for their company but they have always been occupied by other concerns. I think Emori misses the freedom of her life before marriage, and her cousins do remind her.”

“They seem a happy and beautiful sort,” Clarke said, imagining a time when she herself embraced that kind of optimism.

“Oh, don’t listen to me, dear sister, I know you must think us all remarkably silly ninnies to be taken with such childish pursuits. You have always been so steady and dependable, always willing to be there for others. To take care of them. You really are the best sort.”

Clarke smiled. It would be churlish to say that she resented being responsible sometimes, that she wished she could run away to adventure, especially when he complimented her so.

“It must be a burden for you to listen to us joke and play all day when you’d much rather be reading or learning something productive or something. You always made me feel he wastrel.”

“I don’t think I was needed to encourage that feeling at all, John. You did fine on your own.”

He laughed and patted her hand fondly. “Always so accommodating, even with your brother’s own wastrel ways. But I am a changed man. Look at me now, master of my own house and host to such charming and wholesome company.”

The smallest boy, Jasper, handed her a toy bear and then toddled over to hang onto his papa’s knees. John smiled down at him. 

“You are certainly very wholesome.” She was proud of him and she loved him and his little family. Even the girls coming to stay.

“I am so wholesome, I am intending to encourage domesticity and wedded bliss for all those around me!”

Clarke stopped. “Whatever could you mean?” Her heart was all a flutter for absolutely no reason.

“Why I intend to get my young cousins as happily married as I myself am! There is nothing for it but to spread the nuptial happiness around. I thought sure you knew.”

She shook her head afraid to speak. “I fear I do not.”

“Our party last week? The dashing Captain Blake and Lieutenant Green.”

“Oh.”

“Why yes. He said that you were already acquainted with him from your time in Polis. Tell me. Do you think he would be a good match for Echo or Niylah? Is he a good sort of fellow.”

No matter that her heart was not beating, she could do nothing but speak the truth. “He is the best of men.” She felt sure that John would hear her dashed hopes in the words. But he did not.

“Wonderful. You have given us your blessings. You must know that I hold your judgment up above anyone else’s. I depend upon it greatly. Now I can relax at my matchmaking ways and admit that yes I have invited the captains to come and walk about the grounds this afternoon. To entertain us and puzzle out which of the girls would make the best wife for him.”

John did not wait for a response. He was sure he had it already. And he didn’t notice the way she stared at him as he departed. And the way her heart was in her throat, or how the room was spinning, or how her hands had gone cold. 

“Auntie Clarke!” her older nephew, Wells, said. “Come play with me.”

She turned her attention back to the child, and swallowed. “Anything, dear one. You would never break my heart.”

****

She was glad to have gotten the warning. If Clarke had not been prepared to see Bellamy Blake striding into the parlor, dressed for a stroll, she might have fainted dead away. And watching the girls, especially Echo, flutter about him might have forced an unbecoming weepiness right out of her. But as it was, she was prepared. She had steeled her backbone to the inevitability of the lively flirting of the pleasant party. 

“Oh but you simply must come with us, Clarke,” Niylah entreated her and her sister joined in.

“Yes do, Clarke. Your company is ever so soothing. You are always sure to make sure that any party you are a part of is satisfied and engaged. We must have you. Isn’t it so?” Echo’s words were sincere, and she was, herself, so pleasant a girl, and the rest of the party agreed so wholeheartedly Clarke could do nothing else but concede to accompany them. As she reached for her bonnet she caught the glance of the one person who was not celebrating that Clarke had agreed to come with them.

Bellamy Blake’s eyes were so dark and stormy as they met hers that Clarke felt changed all the way to her toes. She did not know if she felt hot or cold, she only knew that she could not move until he broke her gaze and swept out after the rest of the party.

On the walk, she let herself lag behind the party, although it was clear that no one noticed her falling behind. The knowledge of what she and Captain Blake had once meant to each other combined with how little he seemed to care now filled her with an inexplicable shame. And it was all she could do to trail behind, listening to the bright chatter of the girls, John and Emori’s fascinated questions about Captain Blake’s adventures on the high seas, and Bellamy’s answers, tales that filled her with fire and with yearning.

It was too much to bear and she let herself slow down even further until she could no longer hear of a life that she had no right to. The group had passed far ahead of her, bright laughter floating back on the wind only occasionally and Clarke struggled with the weight of everything, of all she had lost and what she must surely never find again. She had thought that she had put Bellamy Blake behind her, had made peace with her lot in life, but it was evident now that this was not so. 

She reached the fence at the road and put a hand to it as she stepped over the stile, but her toe snagged in the hem of her dress and she nearly stumbled. Before she could gasp, there was a strong hand on her elbow helping her over the gate.

Captain Blake said not a word, but his eyes pierced hers, as he passed her through to the other side. 

“There you are!” cried Niylah. “We thought we lost you.”

“Shame, Miss Clarke, getting so far behind. We will have to make sure you do not escape us again.” With that the two girls each took one of Clarke’s arms and continued on in their walk, on either side of her. The conversation continued on, much like before, only this time she was in the middle of it, although she was rarely addressed, and Captain Blake still avoided admitting her presence. 

***  
Clarke had to admit that the company at Murphy Hall was of the most genial sort. The addition of Captain Blake and his friend Captain Monty was met with the utmost delight as John and Emori were pleased to report that Echo and Captain Blake were developing an attachment. 

The Murphys could do nothing but assume that Clarke shared their joy in the happiness of two such fine folk, and Clarke did nothing to disabuse them of the notion. She continued to play the pianoforte when it was asked of her, and to sit in as fourth when another hand was called for in pinochle. She entertained the children and served as walking companion when one girl or another wanted to stroll about the picturesque lands. Clarke was, in all cases, considered to be a fine companion.

Clarke determined herself to be satisfied with this and had gone to fetch a shawl for Niylah. She was perhaps quicker in returning than the party had expected. As she was nearing the door to the parlor, she heard her name mentioned. A tremor set up in her bones that could not entice her to break into the conversation, nor could she force herself to turn away.

“John has told me,” Emori’s bright voice came through half open door, “that his sister Miss Clarke has never once had a suitor. Can you imagine? Such a pleasant girl.”

“What, never?” Niylah asked, her interest piqued.

“Not a one. Her first season in Polis was interrupted when they called her home to care for the estate and their injured sister Raven, and she refused any other entreaties to take another season in town. For sure if it had been me, I would have gone to cause as much trouble as I might, but I found my dear John early in life and had no need to search any longer.” Clarke could hear the fondness in Emori’s voice.

“To be fair to my sister,” John said, “I do not think Polis was a place that made her happy. She was always more content to stay at home and care for us than to go out and make merry and dance and find a dashing naval officer to fall in love with.” The laughter in the room was soft and fond. The silliness of the idea. “Besides, she refused to talk about her time in Polis and I always came away with the impression that it was an uneventful and lonely time for her.”

“It cannot be,” Echo said. “She is lovely enough, with her golden hair and pleasant figure, with a substantial fortune. Surely someone attempted to win her heart away. Perhaps it was a scandal and she is hiding her wicked ways.” The laughter came again.

“My sister? A scandal? She would never even consider it. There has never been a better, more honorable person. She would never harm the people she loved by acting in such a way. That kind of behavior was entirely the territory of her youngest brother, and she would never have acted the bad example for him.” This time the laughter was at John’s expense. “No. Clarke Griffin is the finest example of womanhood who will sacrifice everything for those she loves. We must all strive to be more like her in all things.”

“I simply refuse to believe that Miss Clarke is such a paragon of womanly virtue that she never danced or kissed a man—“ the protests in the room were cut short when Echo simply spoke over them, “or challenged the rules of polite society. She’s a woman, not a paragon of domestic life. I believe that she has a rebellious soul underneath her meek exterior,” Clarke heard a shifting. “Tell me, Captain Blake, you knew Miss Clarke when she went to Polis, was she always as John says? So perfect?”

Clarke was afraid to breathe.

“I must confess,” Captain Blake’s deep voice came slowly, cooly, “the Clarke Griffin I met here at Murphy Hall bears little resemblance to the Clarke Griffin of my acquaintance in Polis six years ago. She has changed so entirely that I might not have known her at all, without the introduction.”

For Clarke, the world had stopped. But the discussion continued on.

“La! I told you so,” Echo cried. “Miss Clarke danced all night and had suitors surrounding her. She was the wild child.” 

“You are the wild child, Echo,” Niylah laughed. The rest of them laughed. Clarke could bear it no longer and fled to her room. When Emori knocked on her door to tell her that they were going for their constitutional, Clarke begged a headache and stayed away.


	3. Lovely

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The lively party goes to holiday at the shore, and Clarke must confront her feelings for Bellamy, even in the face of the gentle attentions of Miss Niylah

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I'm letting some more modern sensibilities creep into my story, because frankly, it's deadly dull to be a regency lady with all those rules and expectations and Clarke Griffin is too powerful to just accept them. Bye bye meek, Clarke.

There was no avoiding, although she tried, the holiday to the Flokru shore. Lady Abby Griffin had claimed the children for the week while John and Emori had claimed Clarke for the party. Echo and Niylah had entreated her to come along although she tried to beg off, but they would not be dissuaded. Captain Blake stood tall and stern in the corner, and said nothing. 

Clarke sighed and agreed. Could it possibly be worse than these weeks in constant contact with the courtship of Miss Echo and Captain Blake? She piled into the carriage with the ladies while the gentlemen rode and this should have improved the situation, although it did not. She had to endure hours of stories about how wonderful Captain Blake was, and they must have her agreement, to which she could do nothing but nod and smile, because for all that they thought he was dashing and handsome and bold and so pretty in his uniform and went on about his stories of daring on the high seas, they did not know… they did not KNOW how wonderful he was underneath all that. They did not know him, not as she had, many years before, and as the man, she realized, he still was, but she no longer had a right to.

Clarke was quiet for the long ride, and held her tears in, and said only pleasant things and no one looked at her askance. No one knew. She would endeavor to keep it that way. They would continue to think she was dutiful and meek, and someone no one could ever love.

But he had loved her once, and she believed it had been true, even if he barely recognized her now. 

Niylah leaned in. “Are you feeling ill, Clarke?”

Clarke looked up, startled. “I? No, no dear Niylah. Thank you for inquiring.”

Niylah blinked and a slow blush came to her cheek. She tilted her head. “I know my sister can be a bit much to bear. If ever you need a break from her, I would be pleased to take a walk with you, where you can rest from listening to her chatter. She is in love with love, and forgets sometimes that not all of us have our heads turned by handsome captains, hmm?” Niylah’s cool fingers closed on Clarke’s wrist.

Clarke felt a flutter in her stomach. Niylah’s smile was warm and welcoming. Clarke took a breath. “That would be lovely.”

Niylah bit her lip and ducked her head but slid her hand around to lace fingers with her. Clarke was startled, and pleased. And the intimacy did indeed make Echo and Emori’s chatter about Captain Blake more bearable. A smile from Niylah eased her heartache, and the trip was soon over.

As the gentlemen helped the ladies out of the carriage, the fresh sea air made Clarke feel infinitely better, as did the attentions of Niylah, arm in arm, catching her shawl before the breeze whipped it away and laughing as Niylah helped her fasten it once again.

“La, Captain Blake, I do believe that Miss Clarke is glad to be released from the carriage. She had to listen to me sing your praises for the whole trip and I do believe she was running out of patience. I do not understand how she could not fall under the spell of your charms, frankly, they are so many.”

Bellamy stood tall and precise and he did not look at Clarke. “I dare say, my charms are not enough to tempt Miss Clarke.” 

Clarke felt her cheeks grow warm.

Niylah tucked her arm more firmly into Clarke’s. “Do not worry about Miss Clarke, dear sister. I will keep her company. Look, her color is already better. The shore has put a most lovely sparkle in her eye.” Niylah was smiling at Clarke, but she still caught that Bellamy whipped his head around to look at them, his jaw tense.

Clarke raised her shoulders. “It was a long ride, but the sea air is quite refreshing.”

“Shall we walk to the inn, dear Clarke?” Niylah said. “As a change in conversation we can talk about the expansive view.” Niylah grinned at Captain Blake, who glared sternly. 

“I’d be happy to talk about the lovely day, Niylah,” Clarke said, as much to Captain Blake as to Niylah.

Echo claimed Captain Blake’s arm and the two followed along closely, Echo begging for him to tell more of his adventures.

Niylah laughed quietly. “I do believe my sister is in love with his life in the navy as much as she is in love with him.”

“Is she in love with him? I can’t tell,” Clarke said, and she wasn’t sure where her acidic tone came from.

Niylah’s laughter was like silver bells pealing. “If she can’t have a life of swashbuckling on the open seas, I suppose she’ll make do with a dashing captain.”

“That seems unwise. Does she even care for him?”

Niylah shrugged. “Not all of us can have the life we would rather. So we make do.”

Clarke had to admit that this was so, but looked away as she nodded.

The holiday at the shore was more bearable than the company in Murphy Hall, and Clarke knew a good portion of that was due to the attentions of Niylah, their quiet walks, and close conversations. While John and Emori and Captain Blake and Echo enjoyed their lively pastimes, Clarke and Niylah enjoyed their more mature activities. Clarke considered inviting her to Arkadian Park as a companion, and was perhaps more enticed when their conversations edged into even more intimate discourse. 

Niylah was lovely. Clarke thought often of her statement about making do with the life we have rather than the one we would prefer, of how she enjoyed Niylah’s gentle attentions and private entreaties. And how she could learn to be satisfied with that. But then there was Captain Blake, and his very presence reminded her of the trust they had once shared, and she recognized that it had never just been about enjoying his company, but about the connection that was between them. 

But she had lost her chance with Captain Blake. She had turned from him to do her duty and he had moved on, obviously not feeling the intensity of connection that she had. While she could accept that she would never regain that with Captain Blake, she could not accept that she would accept an association with another person that was not as all consuming, and so Niylah’s invitation to Arkadian Park remained unspoken. Their flirtation remained undeclared.

Until one night, after Clarke excused herself from the evening society, Bellamy found her in the halls. He reached for her elbow and she turned to face him.

“You must know that Miss Niylah is courting you. Her intentions are not as a friend.”

Clarke blinked up at him, astonished as much that he would seek her out as his topic of conversation. “And am I so unlovely that no one might court me?” She was just as astonished at the waspishness in her voice. That he would question her relations when he had shown not the least intention to create even an amicable friendship with her. When he barely acknowledged her existence.

“That—I did not mean to imply such a thing.”

“Am I such a creature as should always be at the service of others and never be served herself?”

“I’m sure I have never said such a thing. You deserve all the best.”

“I deserve?” Clarke was surprised at the anger that rose within her breast. “What do I deserve? A place at the pianoforte to play for courting couples? A handful of nephews to dote on me in my old age? The pity reserved for those who were discarded while they still held their bloom and now are withered on the vine?”

“I did not discard you!” he hissed back. “The discard was all on your part.”

Clarke could not find another word to speak. All words had flown from her mind and she could but stare. It had never been her desire to discard Bellamy Blake. She had but been called home and hoped that he had cared enough for her to wait for her. But he had not. She blinked. She would not tear up and she nodded, regaining her tongue.

“I understand what you believe of me. And I accept it. And I must make my way in my world, limited as it is, without you.” He blinked and shook his head as she spoke. “You have moved on as you so clearly must do, and I have made do with the life that is left to me. You cannot believe that you have a claim on what I chose to do with it, not while you have a devoted fiancee awaiting your favors.”

“Fiancee?” He seemed to be at a loss for words himself.

She did not wait for him to collect himself. “Good evening, sir,” she said. And fled to her room.

It was as if a dam had broken within her. Feelings she had long since restrained rose up again. A desire to be loved for herself, to be valued, but also to love someone as she had loved Bellamy. Sill loved him. She felt the fool, to be holding onto a connection that had long since been severed, but she could not help it. And she could no longer deny the truth, as much as she had tried to conceal it even from herself. 

She was sure that Niylah noticed, and she pulled back in her attentions until the day when they were walking along the shore, enjoying the brisk breeze, with Captain Blake and Echo walking ahead, playing and joking in a sprightly manner.

“You love him, don’t you?” Niylah asked, her voice low so as not to carry to Emori and John, strolling not far off and enjoying the lively show put on by Echo and Bellamy.

Clarke did not want to admit it, but she must be honest. She nodded.

“You knew him in Polis, did you not?”

“We were engaged to be married when I was called home. He believed I did not love him enough, and broke it off.”

“But you did.” Niylah’s eyes were full of sympathy. “He was what you never wanted to speak of in regards to your season.”

She nodded.

“Clarke…” she began, but was interrupted when Echo brandished a stick as if it were a weapon, and challenged Bellamy.

“En garde, mon capitaine,” she declared, tossing another stick to him with surprising facility. “Arm yourself so we may duel to the death.”

“Miss Echo, this is neither the time nor the—“

“En garde I say, sir,” and with that she began to slash and feint at him so that Bellamy must defend himself against harm. He stepped back, clearly not wanting to engage with her. 

“Miss Echo…”

“I said en garde.” The duel lasted only brief moments, Echo pressed Bellamy back and seeing her advantage, dove towards him looking to strike. She but misjudged the length of her dress, catching her toe in the hem and toppling over the edge of the wall onto the stones below.

“Echo!” Niylah cried, as Bellamy leapt over the wall to her aid. Clarke rushed after him running down the steps at a breakneck pace and nearly taking a tumble herself.

She fell to her knees at Echo’s side. The girl was pale and clammy, her pupils were dilated and a wound on her head bled profusely. Clarke tore the hem of her petticoat and wiped Echo’s face clean with it.

“She would not stop,” Bellamy said, his words broken. “I should have made her stop.” 

“She is not a child, Bellamy. It was her own actions that caused her fall and her own responsibility. We were all witness.”

Echo, Emori and John caught up to them.

“What can we do?” John asked.

“Run to the inn, John and call for the doctor. Also have them send a carriage to us so we may carry her safely home.”

“Yes, Clarke,” he said and ran off to do his duty.

“How can I help?” Emori asked, all seriousness. Niylah stood next to her, pale in shock and fear for her sister.

Clarke nodded. “Emori, I need you to take Niylah back to the inn and prepare her bed. Boil water and find bandages. Make sure Niylah sits and has some cool water, she looks about overcome.”

“I am fine,” Niylah said, her voice barely more than a whisper.

“Captain Blake and I will care for Echo until the carriage gets here. More people will only interfere.”

“Yes, Clarke,” Emori said and took Niylah’s arm to guide her back up the steps. 

Bellamy looked at her as if stunned. 

She sighed crossly. “And none of these dramatics will do at all, Bellamy. I need your help. She tore another strip from her petticoat and handed it to him. “Dampen this in the cool seawater and bring it back to me.”

He stared at her and then at the strip of muslin in his hand for just one second and then clutched it and firmed his jaw. He met her eyes with deep brown ones and nodded, immediately doing her will. 

Echo was revived and the carriage was brought round and by the time they made it back to the inn, the doctor had arrived. 

Clarke was due back at Arkadian Park and the children called for their parents. Echo assured all that she would be fine recovering in the care of her sister.

Captain Blake asserted that he would stay to make sure the ladies were cared for and Niylah raised one fine eyebrow and told him they were fully capable of caring for themselves.

The company parted in much lower spirits than they had arrived. Captain Blake escorted them home and said his goodbyes.

Clarke was sure that would be the last she saw of him.

**Author's Note:**

> I've never written anything historical before and I'm trying to do a more formal writing style and I'm finding it hard to maintain and a little clunky. I might get more casual as I go on, or I might get into it. I haven't decided. I wanted to do a short piece but this won't let me. Also, I'm getting some historical details wrong because they mess up my story. Like issues of lines of succession and women's rights and such. And I consider Raven to be an adopted sister and Murphy to be a foster brother, but I didn't clarify that, so just imagine it.


End file.
